Ways to Get Your Hand Held
by Mr. Miagi's Banana Factory
Summary: Harry has been stuck in a Catholic monastary, and its up to Hogwarts to make him one with Satan again. By the end of the week, he must... hold someone's hand!
1. Meet someone

Boredom has been inflicted on me yet again (but I did finally get the chance to write again), so I am going on to my newest fic. Yay, I think, maybe not, cuz now I'm committing myself to one more story, but whatever. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own any of the characters. I don't own anything. Don't you feel better now? I'd work harder at my intro, but I don't feel like caring today. Maybe I'll do better tomorrow, or whenever.

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Ways to get your hand held

Rule 1: Meet somebody

The train ride back to school had never felt so grand. After a whole summer in a Catholic monastery after Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had decided that getting an excorcist for their nephew was the way to go in order to cure him of his "magic disease," Harry could only smile, knowing that, hopefully, the days of many monks running after him with rosaries screaming the Magnificat were far behind him. Ron, who was sitting next to him, looked over to where he was.

"Hey Harry?"

"Matthew, Mark, Luke and John," Harry replied on auto-speech. Ron hit his head against the back of his chair, screaming and screeching, as being possessed by many demons (after all, witchcraft is considered devil's work in the faith). Harry could only look at his friend in a puzzled manner, as Ron's pores began to spout smoke and steam. Hermione stepped into the car, and viewed the spectacle.

"Oh Harry, did you do it again?"

"I didn't mean to. Those monks practically programmed it all into my memory."

Hermione sighed, and then she turned to Ron, "Let us work with the powers of Satan."

Ron stood up, feeling quite better, and shook his head. This had been the seventh time since Harry had spouted the faith in the car, and seeing as seven seemed to be a godly number, it had probably hurt the worst, not counting number three. All he could hope was that Harry would soon be corrupted once again by the powers of evil, and stop his righteous ways.

Hermione sat down, and pulled out a small notebook, and both boys groaned. Recently, she had gotten the bright idea that she would plan each day out for them in advance, as to avoid an adventure for this coming year.

"Now Ron," she began, "I have your goals for this year perfectley set. As a rough outline, you will be doing your hardest in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. Outside of school, it'll be study, study, study, and maybe molest Miss Norris a couple times each day, time permitting."

"But Hermione," Ron whined much like always, "Can't I molest a person? I mean, blimey, even Neville's doing more than having inappropriate relations with a cat." And how true this was. Over the summer, Neville had come to America where wider was average, and even your little fatties could get it on with the Malibu babes. When he had come back, Neville was built, tan, STD infested, and proud of it.

Hermione thought this over for a bit. "Alright, you may have unsuitable relations with your sister, then. And as for you, Harry, you will REALLY have to work hard in Potions class, but as long as you keep up on your homework, you may unsanctify my body as you please."

"Um, actually," Harry began to blush.

"What? You can't wait and want to have a go now?" she asked impatiently. After all, he wasn't exactly fit into her schedule at the moment.

"Well, you see," Harry said barely above a whisper, "I've never done anything with anybody. The most was that kiss with Cho Chang, and it was really short, but, after everything that's happened over the summer, I've been thinking-"

Right then the loud voice of Draco Malfoy sounded. "YOU HAVEN'T HAD SEX?!" The blond burst into the car, his eyebrow waggle made the girls swoon. "Now, Potter," he said with a smirk on his face, "I knew you were a pathetic loser with no fashion sense and hygiene damnable by a bear, but even I had higher expectations for you. You're even famous and you can't get laid. When my father hears about this-"

"Why do you always have to bring your father into everything?"

"Because I do. Now as I was saying, you're even more disgusting to me than when I found out that you use the same toothbrush more than once."

"I'm disgusting? You're the one who's barged on in without zipping up your fly!"

Draco looked down to where his pants needed attention. "Oh, most sorry. I had been busy in the other room. You know how Patil gets, oh wait, YOU WOULDN'T!! HAH!!"

"Stop it, Malfoy!" Harry fumed, "You might as well hear it along with everyone else!" This was it, the big moment, the time to spout what had been on his mind ever since he had gotten out of the hellish heaven. "Everybody! After everything that I have witnessed this summer, I have decided that I, Harry Potter, will remain chaste until marriage!"  
Time froze. People gasped and stared. Even Draco seemed to have been touched by the shock of Harry's words, for even his eyebrow stayed in place. It seemed that the boy who lived had been a bit more affected by the saintly past events, and had changed his way of thinking. Finally, after eternity had taken it's moment, the clock began to tick once more.

"Harry, don't do this!" Ron did his best to hold back his tears of pity, "Think of what you're saying!"

Hermione shook her head fiercely. "This has to be a joke!"

It was only Draco who did not feel sorry for Harry's poor decision making, and sneered at the group of Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson huddled around a box of tissues, weeping for the loss of impurity.

"Well, then, Potter," he spat, his saliva enough in quantity to drown Neville's toad, "I suggest we make a small wager on this little life changing ordeal of yours."

"What do you want?" Harry looked at Draco warily. The last time he had made a bet with Draco was in the first year, and was horribly beaten when the Slytherin had proved that 22=19. How it had all come about still stumped him.

Draco could sense the fear in Harry's eyes, not really, but he liked to think he could because it made him feel all snazzy and super. "How about this. So that we can 'test' your pureness, you must find one person and... HOLD THEIR HAND!!!" More gasps in the background were heard, and Harry suppressed himself from shuddering. "If you do this, and have no inclination of wanting to go further, then I will pledge myself to never sleeping with another person again."

"What's the catch?" If Harry knew one thing, there's always a catch in deals and bargains.

"If you DO want to go further, then you have to give me your sister!"

".... I don't have a sister."

"Oh...." Draco looked up at the ceiling, thinking if there was anything else he could get out of this. "Okay, if I win, you've gotta chop it all off."

Just the thought sent chills throughout the train. This was certainly difficult for Harry to decide on. If he took up the bet and lost, he was not too fond of the thought of a caphidure being his best friend for the rest of his life. On the other hand, if he didn't, people would think him as a person who doesn't back up his word, and that would be bad for publicity. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Alright, Malfoy, but I get to choose the person."

"Fine, Potter. So who's your pick?"

"Severus Snape."

'Ah shit,' were the only words in Draco's mind. There was a 0.001% chance of an arousal out of Harry if that was his option. Then again, it would be interesting to see how the poor bastard would go about it.

"Okay, but there's one condition in this." Draco was sure he had him now, "you must have completed your hand holding task by the end of the week, and the whole holding of the hands process must be a MUTUAL agreement."

Yeah, Harry looked to be all but screwed. Under normal circumstances, he would have wanted an extended due date, but seeing as how there were so many spectators, that wouldn't look too good, so Harry sucked it all up and agreed. Draco looked more than pleased at that moment.

"Well, I hope you have a pleasant week Potter. I know I most certainly will." He then eyed one of the Hufflepuff girls, and was off like a bolt of lighting. No one was truly sure what to say about the whole thing, so the rest of the ride was driven out in silence.

At the castle, everyone seemed to be in a cheerful mood. Professor McGonagal hadn't been aware of her drink being spiked, and was as tipsy as ever, Dumbledore had come down with Alzheimers and had no clue what was going on, Hagrid was excited because of his newest pet back at his hut, and Professor Snape was as unhappy looking, but he always looks like that so it qualifies as cheerful. Of course, what could ever make him ever truly cheerful would be to catch a certain Mr. Potter off guard and give him a years worth of detentions with Filch.

And there he was, the glasses wearing boy with his rag tag buddies, and, oh my, what was this? He seemed to be using the most profane language. Yippee! Snape hurried his way over to where Potter stood.

"Well, Mr. Potter, wherever did you learn such heinous words?" Snape asked him with utmost pleasure.

Harry looked at him, not as he normally did, but with even more of a grimace than usual. This what he had to contend with. This fowl being with gooky hair and nasty teeth... then he thought it over... England nasty teeth= duh. Well, it seemed Harry had now most certainly met his partner, though he wished he could have kept everything in a dislikeable teacher/student relationship, but, alas, if little Wap Wap was to live his life out to a ripe old age, there would be no choice but to go through with the deal... he'd just start tomorrow. And so our wonderful little procrastinator took his newest detention slip of the year, and sat at the Gryfindor table with the rest of his comrades, dreading the days to come.

Yay! I've got one chapter done! Whee! Okay... the thrill's gone now. Please do review, or else I won't bother writing more.


	2. Talk to them

Okay then. Looking at my first four reviews, 1/4 liked the fic, 2/4 absolutely hated it, and 1/4 seemed to dislike it. Of course, because they reviewed, I feel obligated to write another chapter, no matter how much it was unliked. First of all, one said that Harry would never want to hold snape's hand and they absolutely hate eachother. Yes. I know that. That's why he picked Snape... so that the experience would be unpleasant. Also, some may find this all to be a bit controversial with abstinance and religion. Okay, to start off... this if a fic! For God's (or whatever deity you believe in seeing as he is controversial now) sake, how can you take this seriously? Anyway, because Catholicism strictly believes that witchcraft is an empowerment of the devil, and Harry Potter is based on witchcraft, according to the church the whole book is based on the practices of evil, technically. Also, because it is "supposedly" evil, and sex before marriage is considered bad and so on, it would make perfect sense for the witchcraft kids to be doing stuff before hand. Of course, I really had no intent of making this fic some big damn philosophical matter of what is right and wrong, and discussing moral issues and the like. I merely felt like putting out something a bit different from what I have been reading on ff.net, because a good amount of it runs on the same lines. If this is not to your liking, then don't bother reading it. For the 1/4 who liked it, yay. Enough of all this though. I'd rather get on to the fic itself.

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Ways to get your hand held

Rule 2: Talk to them

The next day started out much differently than usual. Due to the amount of fat kids that had been recently leaking into the system, the board of directors had come to the conclusion of making all of the meals of the year low calorie, in hopes of thinning the population of Hogwarts. Harry looked at his mashed celery root in disgust as Ron forced down part of his puke green vegetable smoothie. To think they would have to eat this stuff for a whole year was torture, but it was comforting to be able to look at Crabbe and Goyle choking on their no sugar, reduced wheat zuccini muffins.

"How long do you think before they commit suicide?" Ron asked as he grinned from witnessing the wonderous display.

Harry pondered this for a moment. "I'd give them about two days."

It was around that time, when much of the chatter had died down, and had been replaced with gagging noises that Dumbledore stood up to give his yearly speech, which he hadn't remembered to do the night before.

"As you might know, we've been having an obesity problem that has finally arisen to our attention, so we have supplemented all of your food with much more organic compounds that will hopefully thin you down."

One of the third years in Ravenclaw spoke up. "What about the new first years? Weren't they supposed to be sent to their tables yesterday?"

"First years?" Ah yes, that's right. Dumbledore had forgotten all about the first year students that were probably still waiting at the train station, or what was left of them. There had been a pretty awful thunder storm the night before, and there had also been a report that the train had been struck by lighting in the very early hours of the morning. Some of the students mourned the possible loss of their younger siblings while others rejoiced over the same thought. Of course, none of this had any effect on Harry or his friends, so what did it matter?

Dumbledore, deciding that the safety of the first years was unimportant (or possibly because he had already forgotten the subject of the matter), continued his speech. "Yes, well, as you all know that there... er... tree covered thing-"

"You mean the Forbidden Forest?" Professor McGonagal pitched in.

"Yes! The Forbidden Forest. The forest is forbidden, thus named the forbidden forest because it is forbidden, the forbidden forest, forest... forbidden..." It seemed that age all together hadn't been too kind to the headmaster, and already he was stuck in a single sentence. Luckily, he still had some of his wits about him, and continued on to another topic. "Third years and up may go to Hogsmead as long as they have permission from their parent or guardian, and why the hell are all these children here?"

The baffled man was escorted back to his seat by Professor McGonagal, who seemed to be suffering a bit of a hangover from the night before, and looked not too pleasant.

Once breakfast was finished, the students started off for all of their classes. Harry and Ron seemed to have Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing that morning, whereas Hermione was off to one of the history classes. It was a little while after they had parted ways that Ron nudged Harry.

"There he is. Right there. Snape."

Harry looked over in dismay. He had said "tomorrow" yesterday, and it seemed that tomorrow had unfortunately arrived. And so, with a heavy heart, he headed towards to ever grumpy Professor Snape, not really sure what his tactic was.

"Hey there, Professor," Harry forced a smile, "My, look at that grass. Must've gotten into some of the breakfast too, cuz it's looking mighty green. Har, har, har...." His fake laughter died as he realized his pathetic attempt at a joke had no effect what so ever.

Snape looked at Harry with unfathomable loathing. "I would suggest you get to class, Mr. Potter. That is, unless you would like a double detention instead of the one you already have."

This would have been the most perfect oppertunity to get away from that horrid man, but as long as Wap Wap was in danger, Harry knew he would have to be more persistant.

"You know, that shade of black looks really nice on you. What shade of black is it?"

"You have yet again proved that your stupidity knows no bounds. There is only one shade of black... Black. Anything else would be a very dark grey." The professor wasn't sure if it was worth explaining, seeing as how practically none of his lectures ever seemed to penetrate the boys ever thick skull.

Harry, though, thinking that he had made progress in the matter, decided that this would be the perfect oppertunity to keep up a conversation. "Oh wow! You sure do know your colours! I like colours, you know. They are what make a person colourful. Like red makes a person look red if they're wearing red, unless they're wearing blue with it, because then they look like red AND blue."

Well, this had to be good was what Harry thought, seeing as how he had gotten a whole new expression on Snape's face. Little did he know, that it was a look of shear horror that any single person could lack so many brain cells.

"P-Potter," Snape said while trying to regain his composure, "Just go to class. Now."

"Okie dokie!" Harry said with a smile and was off. He found Ron waiting for him down the hall.

"So, how'd it go?" Ron asked, waiting for the worst.

"I think it's a so far, so good type of deal," Harry replied, relieved that he had come out of it okay.

Ron was amazed by this news, because he was sure that anyone not in Slytherin who would attempt a conversation with Snape was sure to have his head bitten off in a dasterdly manner. "So, er, what'd you guys talk about."

"He seems to like to talk about colours," Harry said matter of factly. This was even more of a shock to Ron, who would have never imagined the grouchy man being interested in such a subject. Perhaps there was more to him than everyone thought. Ron began to wonder, as he grabbed some broad's ass on the way to the classroom, how such things couldn't be evident in a person's mannerisms.

On entering Defense Against the Dark Arts, McGonagal stoood, waiting for everyone to take their seat. Once they had done so, she began to take role. After some way down the list she got to the M's.

"Malfoy?" Silence. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh, sorry ma'am, " Draco said as he and one of the Slytherin girls came out from under one of the tables. "Duty called."

"Ah yes," she said with understanding, "I understand how that must be. I'll be still wanting to 'talk' to you about it after class." Many suggestive faces were passed from one to the other, and then she finished the role call.

"Excuse me, Professor," Lavender raised her hand, " Why isn't our teacher here for our first day?"

"He had some special business to attend to," she replied, "So I will be your substitute until he returns. Now if you all turn your books to page 12, we will begin with-"

It was right then when Professor Snape walked into the classroom.

"Oh yes," McGonagal acknowledged his presence, "Professor Snape will be assisting in the procedures for today."

Harry gulped. He had been hoping to have a little down time before he would have to make another attempt, but perhaps this was for the best. Better to get it over with as soon as possible than to stall the inevitable, right?

The chapter be complete, and I'm thinking I actually will continue with this fic, despite what people think. After all, we all need diversity (- lame excuse). Yes, so review if you want me to continue, but if you really want me to stop, you might as well tell me so I can know if it's really worth venturing on.


	3. Nod a lot

Whoo hoo! We're finally getting to a chapter 3 of this ever wonderous fic that has either pissed or greatly amused the readers of the story. Now then, I do not feel like staying here in this paragraph cuz it bores me. I think getting on to the story would be best.

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Ways to Get Your Hand Held

Rule 3: Nod a lot

Snape looked at the class in his same superior manner, carefully not gazing in Harry's general direction, for he found himself still a bit disturbed from earlier events. Harry noticed Snape's eyes never moving towards him in his natural loathing look, which he always seemed oh so fond of doing, and the young wizard found that he could only come up with one conclusion.

"Ron," he whispered to his friend, "See how Snape doesn't look at me? I think he's got a shyness thing and doesn't want me to realize that he's got a thing for me."

Ron looked at Harry utterly appalled. "Blimey! Are you sure?! I thought he was just busy checking out Lavender's new boob job."

A 'boob job' was much more of an understatement than you could imagine. It was more like a construction of the newest set of Twin Towers, that made the Himalayas look like a bump in the road. Lavender looked about proudly as all the boys and some of the girls ogled at her new titties in admiration. Harry overheard Draco whispering to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Yeah, and they look even bigger when her shirt's off. Hot damn, I had to do her from the back cuz they kept getting in the way."

Harry shook his head. No! He must remain celibate, he must... Lavender's titties bouncing around... CELIBACY!!! He clutched his skull, doing what he could to refrain himself from thinking such impure thoughts.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagal said irritably, "Could you please stop thrashing about and pay attention?"

"Sorry ma'am," he replied bluntly, not sure what excuse to make, so he left it silent and open ended. Professor McGonagal seemed ready, now, to address the whole class.

"Today Professor Snape and I will be showing you how to defend yourself against a monster that can be found often hiding in bed sheets and lingerie drawers, known as Phallusium. Phallusium are often easily attracted to circular openings, and that can be used to your advantage. Now, when it comes towards you, wave your wand in the air and say 'scrotumulus.' This should repel the creature, and it will eventually deflate. Mr. Weasley, you can try it first."

Ron stepped forward, standing right in front of the large Victoria Secrets' box, already quivering with fear. He felt his knees wobble as the lid was lifted, and then, right before him stood a great phallus of a monster. Right then, the spell he had learned and all the advice he had been given left him, and he stood trembling in its over compensating presence.

The overly large, seven foot tall penis looked at him in the most displeasing manner, though no one could be sure if it was because of Ron or the fact that its balls itched, but it stared on none the less. As it began to advance, Professor McGonagal noticed that the Weasley boy stood there wide mouthed and nothing more, which was more than a pleasant invitation to the great beast. At this rate, the red head would be mouth fucked before morning tea time. Snape caught on and decided to intervene.

"Scrotumulus!" He wailed as he waved his wand about in the air. The seven foot tall penis then deflated to a mere three feet tall, and began to blush due to its limpness. It then ran back to its Victoria Secrets' box, and began to aid it's injury by rolling about in the vintage bras and lacey G-strings that had remained there.

Professor Snape shot a glare at the Weasley boy, looking terribly pissed. "Mr. Weasley, do you enjoy the thought of being ravaged by a glistening phallus, or does the idea of being a rape victim appeal to you?" The class snickered like a bunch of seven year olds who thought that was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Snape raised his head pompously, thinking himself the coolest person alive to have a bunch of freshly pubescent children laughing at his not too funny statement. Ron turned almost as red as the Phallusium, and Harry knew it was up to him to save his friend from embarrassment. He parked himself in front of the greasy Potions master.

"I think your shoes look awfully spiffy today, sir," he said, not only thinking of Ron, but his bet with Malfoy, "I mean, I've seen shoes before, but those are real shoes! I mean, wow. Shoes!" Ron slipped into the background feeling most relieved, Malfoy sat on the edge of his seat, hoping that the Slytherin teacher wouldn't fall for such a sly pick up line, and Snape looked at Harry once again in shear horror. God, first colours, and now shoes. This boy must have too much time on his hands. The professor then solemnly swore to himself to pile on more homework so that his students would never have the time to daydream about such frivolous matters. As for now, he backed away from the strange child, not wanting to get infected by his stupidity.

The rest of the class seemed to go by quickly, even though Harry still felt awkward that Snape obviously wanted him but was attempting not to show it, whereas Snape was afraid for his sanity, being trapped in a room with such a dumbass for a student. As for Draco, he and Professor McGonagal had made their way to the closet for some extra credit.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts was over, Ron and Harry happily made their way out of the room for nutrition. As they sat in their usual spot, a very shocked Hermione ran towards them.

"Harry, Ron! The worst thing has happened!" She squealed in horror. Ron and Harry looked at her expectantly, wanting to know what had happened.

"Well? What is it?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione clutched onto his arm as she cried.

"It's just awful," she sobbed, "He got Patil, and now we might have to evacuate the castle."

"Who? Who got Patil," Harry asked, firmly putting a hand on her shoulder.

"A MONK!" She wailed, "A monk found a way inside the castle! Patil and I were walking out of class, talking about the wonders of the occult and how we wish to damn the souls of the world to hell when a monk came out of nowhere. I ran as fast a I could, but in the distance I could hear him chanting on prayer beads and Patil's beastly screaming. It's horrible! Just plain horrible!" From this she broke into a full bawl as Harry and Ron looked at each other in fright.

"A monk," Ron said as he tried to remember a past event from chapter one, "Harry... I think they're coming for you."

Harry froze. How could this be happening to him? Sure, he was the main character of the series, thus drawing the evil forces to him wherever he may roam (kinda reminds me of the Power Rangers I watched when I was six). It made perfect sense. The monks had converted a fraction of his damnable soul, and now they were out to purify the rest of it. If they had their way, not only would they stop him from ever having intercourse with another human being on the planet, but he might never be able to masturbate again! He quivered as Little Wap Wap began to evoke the forces of evil to protect him.

"Seems they want to get you, Potter," came the malicious voice of a certain blonde haired Slytherin.

"What do you want, Malfoy," Harry asked coldly, not in the mood to be taunted by the campus' god of sex. If he had any inkling of what those monks had in store for the boy who lived, Harry would never hear the end of it.

Draco smirked as he noticed how bothered Harry seemed. "I just thought you'd want to know, Potter, that even I am not without sympathy for you. That's why I'm more than willing to take your owl into my custody after you're gone. It'll have a great home in my dog's stomach."

"Leave Hedwig alone," snarled an angry Potter. He had heard enough of Draco's comments.

Malfoy would have stayed to annoy Harry longer, but his own personal needs came first at the moment. "Don't worry Potter," he said as he took his leave, "After Madam Pomfrey removes these warts from my dick, I'll be the first in line to view your shriveled, saintly carcass."

Harry shook his head in annoyance. "What does he think? The monks will touch me and I'll begin to emaciate or something?"

"Well that is what tends to happen when us Satan worshippers get touched by the hand of God," Ron said matter of factly as attempted to pry Hermione off his arm.

All Harry knew was that this was a bad predicament. But if what Ron said was true, then why hadn't he been burned to a crisp when he had been trapped in the monastery over the summer? It didn't really make sense. As he thought of this, though, Professor Snape caught his eye.

At the moment, the greasy professor was scolding a first year Ravenclaw for looking ugly. Harry felt that this would be an opportune time to try to get his hand holding mission over, before Little Wap Wap was sentenced to death. He made his way towards Snape.

"... Dammit, child! If I were as ugly as you when I was born, the doctor would have taken one look at me and slapped my mother! I suggest that you go to Madam Pomfrey and have her mend your face. 50 points from Ravenclaw and a weeks worth of detention for you on the grounds of indecent exposure. Now go!" Snape snarled at the young girl, who burst into tears as she ran away. What she didn't know was that she could use this on the grounds of later growing up, somehow getting hot, and with a dark past at the same time so that she could attract the main character to her, and be the everyday Mary Sue. Too bad those stories really suck, so the ugly Ravenclaw girl will never be heard from again.

"Professor Snape," Harry said timidly, hoping he had not come at a bad time, "I was wondering if, er-"

"If you are here to talk about colours or shoes, I swear I will hang you from your pinky toes in a fish tank and let piranhas eat your flesh!" Snape backed away, trying to be threatening towards the scary child.

"Now Professor," Harry knew what topic must be addressed, and wished he knew better how to go about it, "I understand how you feel. I mean, I can't really blame you because I have a tendency to draw this type of attention from people. Some romance writers say it's my eyes and angsty ways, while fans of lemons argue that under my robes I have nice pecs and chiseled abs. Whatever the case may be, you shouldn't feel ashamed about your feelings."

Snape was now more worried than he had been when he was eleven years old and had been caught reading a Christian magazine by his daddy. What was this kid talking about?! Was he some kind of fear sensing radar, come to destroy all that was unholy?!

"What are you talking about Potter?" He asked defensively, readying his wand if the child tried anything foolish.

"Well, what I mean to say is," Harry hesitated for a moment, "I realize that you're in love with me, and you don't need to feel bad, so lets hold hands and be happy."

Snape's face turned a ghostly white. He in love with Harry Potter? What a disgusting thought. There was only one thing to be done about this, and that'd be a lecture, a good, long, boring one that would, in time, split the youth's ears in two.

"Mr. Potter, that is the most revolting thing I have ever heard," the professor began, "First of all, you're the son of my arch nemesis, and such an emotion would be beneath me. Secondly, you wear glasses, and being around with a nerd would be totally gross. Then there is the fact that, in general, I hate you."

Harry nodded in understanding, a bit too much, to make it look like he was paying attention, even though he wasn't hearing one word the older man was saying. He knew that chicks loved it when you paid attention to everything they said, so the same must be true for guys who like guys, or something like that, to which he couldn't be sure. Snape pressed on through his lecture throughout the rest of the break, and found himself quite unhappy when it was time to go back to class.

"We'll finish this later, Potter," he said, and then stormed down the halls to the dungeons. Ron ran over to where Harry stood.

"Well, what happened?" He asked, a bit too curious for his own good.

Harry gulped. "I think he just asked me out."

Yes, I have yet again finished another chapter (took long enough) and must say that, so far, I am quite proud of my work, though the religious and terribly chaste may disagree with me. Review my stuff, cuz that'd be awesome, and I do believe that I'll have to re rate my story from PG-13 to R, so the angry flamers can't stick me with under rating due to a large phallus running rampant on the scene. For the rest of you, tl the next chapter!


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